


Many Happy Returns

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-30
Updated: 1999-09-30
Packaged: 2018-11-20 08:33:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11332191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived atThe Basement, which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onThe Basement's collection profile.





	Many Happy Returns

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Many Happy Returns By Kassandra

Many Happy Returns  
By Kassandra ()  
23 June 1998

* * *

.......winter evening and Mulder glanced up from his book to see Krycek lying on the floor near the fire, staring into it as if hypnotized. More than pensive, almost boyishly rapt.

He smiled as Skinner came in, bringing the scent of snow with him. Tilted his face up for the kiss, rough brush of stubble across his lips and Skinner walked past the couch, gently tapped Krycek's ass with his shoes. "I think this side is done." Gruffly.

Always. Mulder smiled, leaned against the arm of the couch, watching them together. Krycek rolled over on to his back, grinned up at Skinner. "Better?" 

"Not yet." But Skinner smiled down, moved back toward the hallway. "By the way," casually, "Happy Birthday, Alex."

Mulder sat upright. "What?"

Skinner smiled back over his shoulder enigmatically and went into the hall.

"Happy Birthday?" Mulder's brows drew together. "And you weren't going to mention it?"

Krycek had gone scarlet. "It's no big deal."

Mulder stared at him. Wondering. Three years of peace, in which they had learned to enjoy their victory. But Krycek still--"Happy Birthday," he said thoughtfully, "We'll have to do something special."

"Something eventful," Skinner offered, coming back into the livingroom, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

Mulder glanced at him. Saw mischief brewing in the dark eyes behind the lenses and slowly smiled. "Oh, definitely."

"You guys," Krycek began, sounding unnerved, "It's no big deal, honestly."

"Of course not," Skinner agreed, clearly amused.

Krycek sat up. "And how the hell did you know it was my birthday?"

Skinner's smile broadened. "I have certain resources."

Mulder began to laugh. "Your old personnel file. Gotcha, Alex."

In answer, Krycek growled something inaudible and rolled back over on his belly.

And Mulder and Skinner exchanged a conspiratorial look.

Standing at the bedroom window, Krycek peered out into the night. "It's snowing like hell."

"It doesn't snow in hell." Mulder came up behind him, stroked hands down his bare arms. "You're freezing. Come to bed."

He shivered, leaned back against Mulder and let himself be enfolded. "The snow--we're going to be snowed in." 

"Tough life." Mulder's breath was warm against the curve of his ear. "Come to bed."

He let himself be guided, laughed softly as Mulder's hands slipped to the waist of his jeans and unbuttoned them. Let the denim be shucked down past his hips and stepped out of them, sprawled on the bed.

Skinner came in, smiled at them both, exchanged a glance with Mulder.

Mulder grinned.

Krycek sat up, looking warily from one to the other. "What?"

"Nothing," Mulder told him and climbed onto the bed. "You still worry too much." Leaning down, he kissed Krycek, mouth warm, hands warm on Krycek's wrists. Bearing him down against the pillows. 

Warm and welcome and Krycek relaxed into it. Stretched up against Mulder's weight, felt the mattress shift as Skinner got into bed. Welcome warmth against his left side, warm fingers unfastening the prosthesis.

He twitched at that, it was hard to get used to that kind of intimacy even after three years. Hard to get used to redemption, of sorts. If that's what it was. If it wasn't lunacy.

Mulder's mouth moved to his throat. He sighed, turned his head, parted his lips for Skinner, different kiss, different taste, both more than he'd ever expected to have in his life.

He hissed as Mulder's mouth found his nipple, as teeth gently teased it. Put his hand on the back of Mulder's head, shifted to allow Skinner to move the prosthesis out of the way. Smiled senselessly at the ceiling; they were focusing on him, it must be his birthday present.

Who was he to complain? Laughter awoke in him, he turned his head to kiss Skinner again. Drank him in and stroked the soft hair at Mulder's nape. Longer now, Mulder was a civilian. So was he. Only Skinner remained with the Bureau. Too close to retirement to resign, he'd once said ruefully.

Mulder taught abnormal psych. And he did whatever work came to hand. The thought made him smile against Skinner's mouth. Skinner drew back, smiled back, stroked a hand over his hair. 

Mulder's mouth continued to draw a line of flame down his belly, he arched up as fingers tugged at the waistband of his shorts, tugged the cotton knit down. 

And then Mulder leaned back, leaned up, kissed his mouth, smiling. Pulled his hands down Krycek's thighs. "Happy Birthday."

He couldn't help smiling. "Assholes."

"Hah." Skinner leaned up on one elbow, held a small plastic bottle over him. Mulder put a hand out to catch what came from the lip. 

He could smell....sandalwood. Hissed in pleasure as Mulder's palms came down on his skin, as Skinner's hands joined them. Arched again, shameless as a cat, fairly purring as they worked over his body, the flat of his belly, the muscles of his thighs, his calves, and even his feet. Shoulders, chest, arm--arms. Skinner never showed any hesitation at touching his stump, it might have been normal for all Skinner ever reacted to it. Mulder was still--he sometimes thought it was guilt, sometimes anger, but Mulder's expression was troubled at such times.

He could forgive him for that, he hated it himself. Even after all the years since, seven of them. Skinner's touch healed that a little each time. And this time--he moaned in pleasure as the phantom nerves settled back to sleep under strong fingers. 

Christ, he was hard, almost aching. Laughing softly, Skinner flipped him over, and they started on the back. He melted into the mattress as the knots in his shoulders were untied. The fragrance of sandalwood was heady, dizzying, combined with the scent of the two he knew best. He nipped Skinner's fingers gently as they brushed past his mouth, sighed.

More oil, in the small of his back, a little cool at first, swiftly heating as Mulder's hands spread it, as Mulder's hands spread *him*, trailing oil down into the cleft of his buttocks. 

Probed him. He moaned, lifted his head, propped himself on his arm and leaned forward. Skinner's erection brushed his cheek, he turned his head, opening his mouth, tasted faintly salty flesh. Ran his tongue over the crown. Heard a rough intake of breath, moaned as another finger opened him.

Hot, so hot, it always was, but this was....this was for him. Just him. Skinner's hand moved over his hair, lightly ruffling it. 

"Christ, Mulder, you--just do it, please." Begging.

So hard he hurt. Balls drawn up snug and he didn't know how much longer he'd last. Wanted one of them in him. Wanted to drink down the other.

Mulder obliged, pressing hard, pressing in. Filling him. Burn turning to something else, something pleasurable and then he pushed back, groaned and took Skinner back into his mouth.

He wanted frantic movement, but neither would give it. Mulder's hand on his cock, working him carefully. Slow, almost lazy, until the tautness within him built higher and higher. Until he was nearly sobbing, worshipping Skinner's flesh, tasting, taking the swollen shaft as deeply as he could.

Until Skinner groaned, hand tightening on the back of his neck. Filled his mouth and throat, the taste of it pushing him over the edge, Mulder's hand stroking him harder now, milking him, he tightened down hard on what spitted him, swallowed Skinner down, so far from sane that he nearly screamed.

Heard Mulder cry out, felt Mulder's hands dig into his hips, almost hard enough to bruise. Hard thrusts, he welcomed them, still coming and coming and coming.....

And oh, Christ, he was sagging now, his cheek pressed against Skinner's thigh, Mulder's weight against him. Mulder's cock still embedded in him.

"Oh." He sighed, nipped at Skinner's thumb when it stroked across his mouth. "God. If I'd known birthdays were like this, I'd have made up six or seven of them."

Low chuckle. "It wasn't the easiest thing to discover." 

Mulder groaned again, kissed the space between Krycek's shoulderblades. "It was starting to drive me crazy."

"You always were crazy." Something loosened in his chest, some essential wariness that he'd held on to for far too long. And laughter returned. As Mulder lifted from him, he shifted, hissing a little as Mulder pulled out of him. Smiled down at his other lover. "But that's okay, crazy isn't all bad." And yelped as Mulder nipped his thigh, not gently.

Low rumble of laughter from Skinner. "No, it isn't." Pointedly. 

Mulder scooted up, wrapped an arm around Skinner's waist, leaned in to kiss Krycek's mouth. "Who's calling who crazy," he gibed.

"Neither of you have any room to talk." Skinner leaned back against pillows, looking sated. "You're both crazy."

Mulder's expression softened. "Happy Birthday, Alex."

He felt his mouth curve. "And many more?"

Skinner sighed. Tugged at his hair lightly. "Many, many more."

finis


End file.
